


Short Circuit

by iaminarage



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, M/M, subtle homophobia (by parents), uncomfortable reactions to coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iaminarage/pseuds/iaminarage
Summary: Bitty always imagined that he'd come out to his mother first, so of course he didn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: subtle homophobia (by parents), uncomfortable reactions to coming out. See the end notes if you'd like a more thorough description.
> 
> Thanks to marauder-in-warblerland for SO MUCH help and hand holding throughout this process. I could not have done this without her. Thanks also to Scout451 for the beta!

Bitty had imagined what it would be like to come out to his parents about a thousand times. Usually when he imagined it, he pictured himself coming out to his mother first, and then she’d help him tell Coach. Every once in awhile, he imagined that he’d tell them both at the same time. The one thing that he never even considered was that he might tell Coach first. So of course that’s how it happened.

It was a completely innocuous day in the middle of April, and Coach was telling him all about spring practice for football. Bitty had listened to Coach talk about spring practice every year of his entire life, and the stories were always a variation on the same theme. Someone was surprising Coach, someone was doing what he needed to do, someone was stepping up, someone needed to take things more seriously. Bitty didn’t even think Coach actually expected him to listen at this point. It was just what Coach did in April. He talked about spring practice.

Bitty was only half listening. He was getting the gist. Coach thought that they could be a pretty good team next year if the guys did what they needed to do. As long as Coach’s players lived up to his expectations, they had a real shot. Bitty was packing. Bitty’s spring break had coincided perfectly with a home stand for the Falconers, so Bitty was planning to spend the whole week with Jack, who would be there in about an hour to pick him up. Bob and Alicia were going to be there for the second weekend of his break and it would be the first time Bitty would be meeting them as The Boyfriend.

It was actually the first time Bitty would be meeting anyone’s parents as The Boyfriend and, despite knowing that Bob and Alicia already liked him, Bitty was nervous as all get out. He was sure that everything would be fine, but it didn’t seem to matter. He wondered if Jack had ever met anyone’s parents like that. He had a feeling that knowing Kent’s mother wouldn’t have counted in the same way that Bitty’s previous meetings with Bob and Alicia hadn’t counted and the way that Jack staying with Coach and Suzanne in Atlanta hadn’t counted. It’s not the same when the parents don’t know what you really are together.

Bitty tried to picture what it would be like to introduce Jack to his parents as his boyfriend. They both liked Jack. His mother thought Jack was wonderful, of course, and Coach had liked that Jack was serious about school and hockey. Coach had called him “every coach’s dream student athlete.” But somehow Bitty’s brain kept short-circuiting when he tried to imagine Coach telling Jack to take care of his son, or shaking Jack’s hand a little too hard and telling him that he’d better not mess up, or any other thing that fathers were supposed to do when they met your boyfriend. He just couldn’t seem to hold the idea in his head when he still wasn’t sure if Coach would ever be okay with the idea of him even having a boyfriend.

It was as if his subconscious connected this thought to his mouth without Bitty’s permission. The words seemed to come out of his mouth without him even thinking them. It felt almost like someone else was speaking, except that it was his voice saying the words.

“Dad,” he said, interrupting his father mid-sentence, even though no one interrupted Coach, even though he hadn’t called Coach dad in a decade, “I’m gay.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Bitty began to panic. He wanted to shove the words back inside of him, like closing an overstuffed suitcase. Like if he tried hard enough, he could just put everything back where it came from, and nothing would have changed. But he knew there was no going back. His thoughts felt fragmented, and his breath came in short gasps as he tried to stop himself from panicking. He’d just come out to Coach. Over the phone. In the middle of a Spring Practice. Without his mother to back him up. He’d just come out to Coach, and Coach hadn’t said a word.

“Please say something,” Bitty whispered.

Coach let out a loud sigh. “Yes. I suppose you are.”

When Bitty had imagined his worst case scenario for his father’s reaction, he'd thought about all the times his father had suggested he stop figure skating, and about all the times he'd heard his father call a player a “sissy” or told him to put on a dress if he couldn't take a hit like a man. All the times he'd used words that Bitty knew meant something awful about _him_. Thinking of that, he'd known it was possible that Coach would hang up the phone at this revelation, that he'd stop supporting him, that he'd hate Bitty.

Instead, the only thing Bitty heard in his father’s voice was resignation. And even though that was far from Bitty’s worst case scenario, it burned to hear it. “Wha-what?” Bitty stuttered.

“Eric, every father wants his son to have a good life,” Coach said with a sigh. “This wasn’t what I dreamed of for you.”

Bitty’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and he felt the phone shaking in his hands. Coach had just said it so calmly. Like he hadn’t just shattered Bitty into tiny pieces. Like what he had said was understandable, natural, how _any parent would feel_.

All of a sudden, it was too much. Too much to listen to his father say anything else, too much to come up with any other kind of response. Too much to sit in his bedroom with the walls closing in on him and try to think of anything to say to his father.

“I have to go,” Bitty said, feeling just a little bit heroic for holding his voice steady enough to say anything at all before hanging up the phone.

Before he quite realized what was happening, Bitty found himself tearing out of his room, down the stairs, and onto the back porch. He tried to catch his breath, but he just couldn’t. He was breathing too fast, and the edges of his vision were going black. Even outside, he felt trapped. He curled himself into a ball sitting on the porch step and tried not to let Coach’s words play at maximum volume in his head, but it didn’t work.

“Bitty?” Lardo’s voice from behind him almost started him into breathing. He looked up at her, knowing he looked a mess.

“What the hell?” she asked, dropping down next to him on the step.

The only words Bitty could manage were “I came out to Coach.” And then he had thrown his arms around Lardo and was sobbing into her shoulder.

A part of him felt ridiculous for crying so hard. He had waited all these years to come out to Coach, and Coach hadn’t disowned him. He hadn’t shouted, or told Bitty not to come back, or cut him off, or even told him that he was going to hell. He’d just sounded so disappointed, and so resigned to his disappointment. It made Bitty feel shattered.

They spent a long time on the porch with Lardo whispering nonsense words into his ear before he was finally calm enough to tell her what happened. When he recounted the story, it was a little gratifying to see that she looked outraged, not dismissive.

“Jesus Christ. Fuck him.”

Bitty shook his head. “He just wants what’s best for me.”

Lardo sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Honestly, Bitty? Screw that. He wants what’s easiest for him.”

“It could have been worse,” Bitty whispered, resting his head on her shoulder.

“It could have. But if my mom had said that to me when I came out?” Lardo shuddered. “I can’t even imagine.”

That sat quietly for a few more minutes. Bitty was warmed by both Lardo’s presence and her insistence that he had a right to be upset. Finally, they were disturbed by the sound of Jack’s voice floating through the Haus as he greeted Holster.

Bitty felt paralyzed. He should get up and go inside, but he couldn't make himself. He did want to see Jack, always, but especially now. But a part of him felt like telling Jack would make the whole thing infinitely more real.

“Your boy’s here,” Lardo said, standing up and reaching a hand down to pull him up.

Bitty’s hesitation must have shown on his face, because Lardo said, “Trust me. He’ll understand,” and then went up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek before heading into the house.

A second later, Jack stepped out the back door, and his face lit up at the sight of Bitty. Bitty tried to make his face do something normal, but it was obvious by the way Jack's expression changed that he'd missed the mark.

“Bits?” Jack asked, taking a step towards him.

Bitty walked directly into Jack's arms and pressed his face into the soft fabric of Jack’s t-shirt. Bitty had expected to start crying all over again once he had Jack to hold him, but he actually felt a little bit stronger. It didn't change how upset he was about Coach, but having Jack meant he'd never have to face it alone.

He breathed into Jack's shirt for a minute before pulling back and telling Jack everything. As soon as he was done, Jack tugged him right back in for another tight hug.

“I'm so sorry, Bits,” Jack whispered into his hair, then he pressed a kiss to the top of Bitty’s head. “And I'm so proud of you.”

“Proud?” Bitty asked, because the thought had never occurred to him.

“You came out to your dad! Of course I'm proud of you.”

Bitty sighed. “It still feels like a mistake.”

“You didn't make a mistake,” Jack said. “He did, but you didn't.”

Bitty looked up at Jack in surprise. It was so strange to hear anyone say Coach had messed up. Bitty was so used to Coach being solid, infallible, undeniable. As any of Coach’s players would say, Coach never made mistakes.

“It’s not his fault,” Bitty said. “I shouldn’t have just sprung this on him.”

Jack dropped his hands to Bitty’s shoulders. “It doesn’t sound to me like he was surprised,” Jack said. “I think he’s had a long time to think about what he’d say when you told him, and this is still what he chose.”

Bitty shook his head. “I did it all wrong! I should have told mama first and let her help me tell him. And I shouldn’t have interrupted him when he was talking about football. I should have given him more time to answer.”

“Bits, it’s not about him.”

Bitty let his eyes drop closed for a second and took a deep breath. Because Jack was right. It shouldn’t have mattered how he said it. It should have been okay no matter what. Coach was wrong, and Bitty didn’t have to excuse his behavior.

Bitty stood up on his toes and pressed his lips to Jack's, holding on tightly to Jack’s hips for support. “Thank you,” he whispered as he pulled away.

“For what?” Jack asked, the look in his eyes impossibly fond.

“For reminding me how lucky I am.”

Jack blushed and ducked his head a bit in embarrassment, but he responded eagerly when Bitty pulled him in for another kiss.

After a few more minutes, Jack said, “Do you want to head back to Providence?”

Bitty nodded. “I'm almost done packing. Give me a minute?”

Jack nodded and pulled him into a tight hug. “Do you want me to come help?”

“No, go say hello to the guys! They miss you.” Bitty just needed a little bit of time to pull himself together.

Walking back into his room and seeing his stuff piled all over his bed exactly the way that it had been when he’d hung up on Coach hit him like a hard check. He knew that Coach was from a different generation than him, but so were Bob and Alicia, and they had been nothing but supportive of Jack. Sure, things were different in Georgia, but he was Coach’s _son_. For the first time it occurred to him that maybe he deserved better from Coach.

Bitty pulled his phone out and took a steadying breath.  Then he went to his favorites to pick Coach’s number and press call. The phone rang a few times before Coach picked up with, “Hello? Eric?”

“I just called to tell you that you're wrong,” Bitty said. “You're wrong to wish I was different just because it would be easier for you, and you're wrong about me. I have an amazing life--”

“Calm down, Eric.” Coach's tone was patronizing and it made Bitty want to throw his phone at the wall. “That's not what I--”

“That's exactly what you meant!” Bitty shot back. He wasn't willing to be told that he was overreacting. “I just called to tell you I'm incredibly happy. I'm in love with a wonderful man, and he loves me back. So there's nothing more you should want for me.”

“Eric…” Coach warned.

“Put mama on the phone,” Bitty said.

“You're overreacting,” Coach tried.

“I'm not. And I have no interest in talking to you if my being gay makes you think less of me. _Put mama on the phone.”_

Coach huffed, apparently having given up on Bitty for the time being. He called Suzanne’s name, and a few moments later, he heard her voice.

“Dicky?” She asked, “What's going on?”

Bitty sniffed. As soon as he heard his mother's voice, the waterworks seemed to start up again. “I yelled at Coach!” he managed to choke out.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Suzanne asked, sounding perplexed.

“I'm gay!” he said on a sob. Score two for not coming out to his parents the way he'd planned.

He also realized, a bit belatedly, that his answer didn't actually explain anything.

“Oh, Dicky!” his mother exclaimed. “Of course you are, sweetheart.”

His mother’s tone was warm, like being enveloped in a hug, nothing like the distant iciness of Coach’s response. Bitty tried to think of what to say in response, but instead he just sobbed harder.

“Oh honey,” Suzanne cooed softly. Bitty wished that she were there with him so that she could hold him like she used to when he was little. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“This isn’t how I meant to tell you,” Bitty said, once he could breathe enough to speak.

“Never mind that, Dicky. I just want you to be happy.”

Bitty took another deep breath. Bless his mother for saying exactly what he needed to hear. “I wish Coach agreed,” he said, ruefully.

Suzanne sighed loudly. “I love your father very much, Dicky, but he can be an idiot sometimes. The good thing about him is that he usually comes around in the end. Even if he needs a little help.”

There was something about his mother’s tone of voice that gave him the feeling that she was going to make sure that Coach came around. “Thank you, mama.” Then he realized there was one more thing he needed to tell her. “I am happy. I’m in love.”

Suzanne gave a giddy squeal. “Oh my goodness, Dicky, are you really? That’s wonderful! Who is it?”

“It’s Jack, mama.”

“Jack _Zimmermann_? He’s so dreamy! And such a nice boy, Dicky. I always knew you had good taste.”

Bitty couldn’t help but laugh. Of course his mother would say that Jack was dreamy. “Thank you, mama. He’s wonderful. I’m really lucky.”

“So is he, baby.” Suzanne said, and Bitty could hear the pride in her voice.

“I love you,” he said, knowing he sounded choked up again.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

It was only a minute after he and his mother hung up that he heard a soft knock on the door. “Bits?” Jack said.

“Come in!” Bitty said, trying to scrub away a few tears.

Jack stepped into the room and immediately looked worried.

“Oh lord, Jack. I’m in such a state. I must look terrible.”

Jack crossed the room in a few short strides and pulled Bitty into his arms. “I love you. Are you okay?”

Bitty held Jack close and relaxed into his arms. “I think I’m going to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bitty comes out to his father and his father has a disappointed reaction. He's not angry and Bitty is not in danger, but it is uncomfortable for Bitty. Suzanne is very supportive.


End file.
